


Like A Pigeon in Flight

by JustWritingCrap



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Drama, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Muggle-born, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Romance, Self-Doubt, Smut, The Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), Wizarding World (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29523864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustWritingCrap/pseuds/JustWritingCrap
Summary: Rhiannon Jones, proudly Welsh and an unmistakable Hufflepuff, has always suffered from a case of imposter-syndrome. While attending Muggle primary school, she was academically sound - but felt like an outsider. In Hogwarts, she developed into a gifted witch, but was painfully aware of her Muggle familial roots. As she took flight (quite literally) in the big, open world, Rhian began to understand her talents and combat her flaws - but it all seemed to circle back to not feeling good enough. After hesitantly accepting an invitation to join Hogwarts as a member of staff for the academic year 1994-95, the feeling of being somewhere and not deserving to be there is creeping back in. More than that, she’s going to have to deal with some hurdles: navigating the strange atmosphere of the Triwizard Tournament, helping her brother through his final year of school, managing her long history with the Weasley family, and realising she’s falling for someone she really shouldn’t be.
Relationships: Bill Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue I

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a (hopefully) sprawling fanfiction featuring my long-standing OC, Rhiannon Jones, who you can see here https://docs.google.com/document/d/1uCfjeXDJaqaglNG7YtyR8iz_T2zY7jYS68A_wy2UiTQ/edit. 
> 
> It would be difficult for me to say that she wasn't a self-insert, because there is so much of me in Rhian. However, the longer I've worked on her and with her she has developed into someone who I see as part of this canon (yes, I'm a tiny bit deluded), rather as an extension of myself! Writing is a hobby, but I appreciate any formative feedback. I have a pretty demanding job, but I'm hoping for weekly or bi-weekly updates. 
> 
> I also have a TikTok account for this character too, which I thought would be fun to do alongside writing this fic! https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeNYjF5w/
> 
> If this character sounds familiar, I did start a fanfic a couple years ago and lost interest - but since then, ideas have changed and morphed. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This is going to end up being a Severus Snape/OC romance where smut will likely feature heavily, if that's an issue for some readers, I understand. I've never posted smut before, so I've managed to work out a way to write it into the very first couple of chapters to get over my fear of publishing it publicly - so stay tuned for that.

PROLOGUE I

The atmosphere was difficult to describe, which was odd for a pristine summer wedding. Normally, there would be an air of jubilance and, for anyone not directly involved in the planning process, perhaps an opportunity to relax. However, all that seemed to dominate conversation between the serving of hors d'oeuvres was the events of the Quidditch World Cup just a day prior. Some of the wedding attendees had also been in attendance of the match. This had created pocketed crowds dotted around outside of the wedding marquee for a whispered explanation of what took place.

One of these groups - a quintuple - had strategically placed themselves underneath the shade of a drooping willow tree, rather than the face early afternoon heat beneath the marquee. They donned brightly coloured wizarding robes of all fabric varieties, huddled close to listen to the red-haired speaker of the group. Perhaps the most brightly dressed of them all was Rhiannon Jones, in her golden yellow silk robes; she was holding her empty bejewelled goblet, hazel eyes flitting down to the swirling, sparkling summer punch as she realised it had refilled itself. Her bronze-blonde hair was shimmering in the reflection beneath her, and she noticed that a wavy strand had actually made its way into the goblet. _Of course_ , she thought, as she fished it out with her fingers.

The hem of her robes had been dotted with amber jewels that also ran up the seams and sleeves. Connecting and surrounding the jewels were white lace trims that formed intricate patterns. Rhian, who had a curvaceous figure, worried she might look like an uneven banana in the dress. Luckily, that didn’t seem to be the case. Freya, whom Rhian was linking her free arm with, wore a similar dress in ruby. Their newly-wedded friend Yasmin had requested that her female friends - regardless of whether they were Indian or not - to wear traditional Indian-style wizarding dress. After seeing the gowns, it took absolutely no convincing. There was no guessing which houses they belonged to with these on, although that part of picking out the dresses had been a happy coincidence.

Rhian had only been half-listening to Bill Weasley’s story. Partly because he had managed to recount most of it on their joint journey to the wedding that morning, but mostly because it made her sick to her stomach. The thought of Death Eaters, or those who wanted to mimic them, festering in the dark...lying in wait to make a mockery and do serious harm to innocent Muggles. She had cringed at the thought of her own Muggle parents at the mercy of the attacks, suspended in the air, humiliated. They probably had no idea that this had even happened. Even if Iwan, her youngest brother, had received a copy of the Daily Prophet, she doubted he would share this kind of troubling news with them - he probably didn’t know how to put it in words.

“Wait-Crouch’s house elf? They thought his _house elf_ conjured the Dark Mark?” came Jack’s unusually shrill tone, bringing Rhian back into the conversation. The tall, broad Irishman stood to Freya’s side in a sleek navy suit, leaning close to listen.

“My dad obviously agrees that it’s ridiculous, but even Crouch seemed to believe it. Fired the poor thing on the spot,” Bill explained, taking a deep drink from his own goblet. Rhian thought he seemed relieved to have talked about the chaos, if not a little _pleased_ that was able to divulge so much information - not in a cruel way, though. Bill wasn’t the sort to revel in the pain of others. In fact, she believed he had been happy to be there to help. The healing gash on his arm that he had shown her that morning proved just how serious the threat was from these sickos. “You didn’t hear about this whole Crouch business from me though. Dad’s in enough hot water as it is.”

“I’ll make sure not to mention _your_ name when I relay all this to my Mam then,” Jack jested, although took heed of Bill’s eyebrow raise. The group fell silent, unsure whether they should have smiled at Jack’s comment or not. Their collective discomfort was soon voiced.

“It’s awful though, isn’t it?” murmured Alfie, slightly shorter than the other two men, blonde curls of hair even lighter in the sun. “That they attacked those Muggles. Even the children.” He scrunched his nose and looked down at the crisp grass beneath their feet. Rhian knew he had an affinity for children in the same way she did. She believed it was a side effect of having multiple younger siblings and growing up with some sense of responsibility over them. For Alfie, it had been because his parents had separated while the friends were in their Second Year. For Rhian, it was because her two younger brothers had also, miraculously, turned out to have magic too.

“I’m sure the Oblivators took really good care of them, Alf.” Bill attempted to reassure him, giving him a pat on the back.

“Well, I just hope they catch the bastards who did it,” Rhian finally chimed, her Welsh accent melodic against the rest even with the note of anger. The group let out a hum of approval at her words.

“Too bloody right!” Freya agreed, bringing her goblet to her lips, and taking a drink before smacking her lips decisively, peering over at the marquee. “Right, I think the families have finished with the photographer. We better get ourselves over there for some group shots.” Jack groaned. He had always shown a reluctance towards standing still for a photo. Rhian observed Freya firing him a warning look that immediately made him change face and set off towards the marquee.

As the friends started to walk towards the sea of magically suspended cream-white fabric, Rhian hung back to speak to Bill as the other three sauntered ahead.

“Did you see what I saw?” Rhian asked in a whisper.

“Are you referring to _the look_?” Bill mimicked Freya’s stare towards Rhian, and she chuckled under her breath, nodding. “The ‘you better not complain about photographs and I’ll be furious if we don’t have one done professionally’ look?” The both started giggling at this, making Alfie turn around, puzzled. Rhian mouthed a tactical ‘we’ll tell you later’ to which the blonde smirked and nodded. Freya and Jack were too busy complimenting each other’s wedding attire to notice.

***

It wasn’t until all the photographs had been taken and the guests had been shepherded inside the marquee that Rhian finally had a chance to pull the bride aside. She slipped between the groom and a flustered looking family member who was complaining about being sat next to ‘that old bag’. Yas immediately took Rhian’s arm and let her lead her away from conversation, which was growing more frantic by the second. The flowery lanterns that bobbed in the air parted for them as they moved between the crowd, finding a corner.

“You looked like you needed a moment.” Rhian gave her friend a delicate hug, careful not to disturb her Solah Shringar, the sixteen-piece wedding dress made up of various blue colours that somehow both clung to her petite figure and flowed around her simultaneously - a magical touch.

“This whole marriage thing is a bit more stressful than I imagined,” Yasmin admitted, and the two shared a smile. “But it’s still so...” her gaze travelled to the man whom she had just married. He had apparently solved the dispute and was now chatting away with Bill, Jack and Alfie, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “ _Perfect_. He’s been perfect.”

Yasmin and Reyad were part of the two largest Indian pureblood families that had called Britain their home for three generations - the Chatterjee and the Patil family. It really was a perfect match. At first, Rhian thought it had seemed _too_ perfect. Although she thought she was probably just jaded from a break-up at the time Reyad came onto the scene. Flash forward the best part of four years, and she agreed: they were a beautiful couple who had helped each other come out of their respective shells. Rhian thought she had experienced that feeling before...then thought she had experienced it again, and _again_. Clearly, she hadn’t met her Reyad yet.

“Don’t forget about you! You are the _definition_ of perfect today!” Rhian chimed, admiring the Mangtikka, the giant jewel on her forehead that was looped through her silky black hair. In the wizarding world, the Mangtikka was able to emit a glittering light that basked Yasmin’s face in a constant warmth, making her glow. She shook her head dismissively but couldn’t seem to wipe the smile from her lips.

“Thank you, Rhi.” She took Rhian’s hand into her own and gave it a quick squeeze. She let out a shaky breath and readjusted the jewel against her forehead. “Now, the only thing that could make today better is for everyone to stop talking about the Quidditch World Cup for five minutes!” she said, exasperated. Rhian felt a pang of guilt; really had been the topic of conversation throughout the day, something she herself had been engaging with.

“I’m sure all that talk will die down as soon as the meal and speeches start,” Rhian suggested. Her friend nodded and shrugged her shoulders.

“I suppose I can’t expect people to forget about it...but speaking of the meal, I’m sorry lovely, I’m going to have to check the top table,” Yas sped up towards the end. She started moving away but spun around before walking off. “Thank you for whisking me away for a moment there, I needed that.” Rhian waved her hand, encouraging her to depart - stolen moments to de-stress each other had always been their ‘thing’, and it was fitting to continue that tradition today.

***

Rhian’s suggestion had been correct: as soon as the food was served the large marquee was full of pleasant, every-day chatter. Yasmin’s school friends and Reyad’s school friends had all been placed together, forming two halves of the same rounded table. A true motley crew of people, Rhian had been (predictably) sat next to Bill, and on her left was someone she hadn’t met before but was gladly accepting his recommendations about the various spiced chutneys that had been brought out with the starter.

“Sorry, I don’t think I got your name,” Rhian said pleasantly, dolloping a healthy amount of the chutneys that had sounded most appealing on her side plate.

“Ayush Chatterjee, Yasmin’s cousin, but Rey and I were in the same year at school” he stuck his hand out and she hastened to shake it.

“Rhiannon Jones, no relation. But Yas might as well have been a sister,” she grinned, letting go of his hand. He smiled back and went back to tearing a piece of his roti in order to dip in his own precured chutney selection.

“Trying to think if I know any Joneses.” He seemed to be scouring his memories. Rhian was about to say that he’d have to go back four generations to magic in her family, and that witch hadn’t even been a Jones - but he beat her too it, in an unexpected way. “Do you know a Lloyd Jones? Who was just signed for the Caerphilly Catapults?” As he chewed, Rhian’s face lit up proudly.

“Lloyd is my brother!” she exclaimed, watching Ayush’s expression change to one of mild interest to great intrigue. “He’s been boasting about it ever since, as you can imagine.”

“I don’t blame him! He’s got to be one of the most talented new keepers I’ve seen for a while. How often do you get to see him play?” And so, the Quidditch talk ensued. Rhian did her best to keep up. As much as she enjoyed the game and had even played as reserve in her final two years at Hogwarts, it was not her specialist subject. Thankfully Bill soon got caught up in a debate with Ayush while the mains were being served about whether the Chudley Cannons were genuinely the worst team in the league or not, which gave her a break. Rhian broke up their conversation after she became tired of them talking over her, and soon, her and Bill were nattering away.

They needed a catch-up and picked up where they left off from that morning. It had been about ten months since they had last met up. He had been away code-breaking Egypt, she had been caught up in her ministry job...and a bloody awful relationship. Despite Bill being aware of the break-up (she had always communicated via letters, whatever the circumstances) it wasn’t mentioned at the dinner table, which she was grateful for. Instead, she asked about Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny - and, unsurprisingly, there was plenty of things to say,

Before long, they had made it to dessert - a beautiful passionfruit parfait that was a perfect accompaniment to the rich Indian cuisine for the previous two courses. Bill had only eaten half of his dessert before deciding to pack it in. Rhian poked him in the side, he promptly swapped her empty bowl with his and she laughed.

“How did you know that’s what I wanted?” She exhaled from her nose, not hesitating to use his spoon to eat the rest of his dessert.

“Are you kidding? I know _that_ poke.” He propped his arm on the table and let his chin rest against his open palm for a moment, watching as she ate. His long hair was styled in a ‘man-bun’ - which she was surprised she liked as much as she did - and she made a mental note to ask him to take it down so she could see the full effect later. “You always finished off _my_ bowl of Mum’s apple crumble, rather than ask for seconds. You know she would’ve made you your own crumble if you asked” he recalled with a laugh.

“I miss your Mum,” Rhian cooed, putting on a frown. “Does she still want us to get back to together?” She wondered aloud, looking up from her dessert with a playful curiosity. Perhaps it was a little too playful, as he leaned closer. She _swore_ she saw his green eyes take a fleeting glimpse at her lips.

“I don’t think she’ll ever stop asking - and I don’t blame her. You’re forever going to be a catch, Pige.”

Bill’s words, the use of her nickname and the mixture of fondness and flirtation in his smile caught Rhian off guard. Maybe she should’ve have expected it, asking a question like that. She felt heat rise in her cheeks and was gathering her thoughts at a lightning speed to respond with something equally flirty in return, but then Alfie's voice cut across the table, calling for Bill. He turned away, not without her noticing his pleased little smirk, and Rhian was left to consider what that had just meant.

Ever since her and Bill ended their relationship in the summer of 89’, time they had spent together in the aftermath caused some level of reminiscence between them. It had gradually changed from something sad to something positive, especially as they both moved on and dated other people. However, she had noticed there was _something_ in the air today, and now it had just been confirmed. There was truth to the saying that your first love stays with you. This also applied to attraction. If she were being completely honest with herself, that spark had been lit again when he arrived on her doorstep that morning.

They had met up in Diagon Alley, and now that Rhian came to think of it, it would have been a lot easier for him to travel to the wedding from the Burrow. She lived in a small flat above Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour and had been fully intent on travelling alone either by train - she didn’t have an apparition licence, and after the third attempt, she had decided to put that on hold - or maybe even flying, but not on a broom. Although, she knew better than to play around with transformation on someone’s wedding day, she didn’t get the chance to be her pigeon-self often and sometimes doubted her ability as an (unregistered) Animagus. An unfounded doubt, after Bill implored her to transform that morning so he could hear that cute little ‘coo’ again. She had obliged, even perching on his shoulder for full effect as they had stood in her kitchen. He was one of only three people who knew she had been able to conquer this challenging piece of magic, and even though they were only friends now, she knew it was a secret he would keep for as long as she wanted it to be one.

Rhian felt someone tap on her shoulder, and she reeled around her seat to see who it was. A teenage girl was standing behind her in traditional Indian wizarding dress that was far closer to what Yas had been wearing. Her raven hair was braided to her waist, and she was twisting the end in a reserved sort-of way.

“Hi - uh, me and my sister wanted to know whether you wanted me to do your mehndi...while we wait for the speeches,” she explained, showing Rhian her hands. The dark patterns that had been dyed into her skin were beautiful and, for a magical touch, they _moved_. It was almost hypnotising, to watch the flowery patterns dance on her palms.

“I would love to have it done!” Rhian grinned, standing up at the same time as Freya. She also had a teenage girl beside her...identical to the one who was now shepherding Rhian away from the table. “Twins?” she asked, to which the girl smiled and nodded.

“Mm. I’m Padma, that’s my sister Parvati. We’re Reyad’s younger sisters.” The two older witches were soon at down at a small table near the entrance to the marquee, the air was cooler here which felt very refreshing after a big meal. On the table was a bowl full of the henna dye and what looked like two tiny piping bags - the sort Rhian’s mother might use for her cakes.

“What year are you in at school, girls?” Rhian inquired, fairly keen for some Hogwarts talk. She placed her palms on the table, and Padma started to trace out the design she wanted to do.

“We’re going into our fourth year,” Parvati replied after examining Freya’s palms, smiling up at the pair. “I’m a bit nervous for OWLs though, Padma keeps bugging me about the subject choices we made.” Her twin let out an aggravated hum as she held Rhian’s palm, careful not to smudge the henna that she had begun to pipe onto the fair skin.

“Did you choose the same subjects?” Freya asked, surprised.

“No-” Padma said immediately. She noticed how abrupt she had sounded and seemed embarrassed. “We chose the same subjects apart from one...Parvati wanted to do Divination instead of Arithmancy, and well, I just don’t think it’s a valuable subject”

“You sound like Hermione Granger,” Parvati jested, and Padma simply shrugged. Rhian observed the two with mild amusement, and she gave Freya a look as if to say, ‘you’re being very quiet’. Her friend had done Divination as an OWL and as a NEWT - she distinctly remembered the moment when Freya had convinced herself that she had some kind of seeing ability because she ‘predicted’ Bill would ask Rhian out. Freya would later go on to describe Divination as the biggest waste of time in her life.

“I always think you should do what appeals to you most. I’m good at Transfiguration, but I wouldn’t say it was what I was most interested in,” Rhian said fairly and saw a glint in Freya’s eyes which told her that she would not be spared from banter.

“Yeah, your favourite subject was History of Magic. You did _seven whole years_ with Professor Binns,” Freya let out a groan at the very thought, and the girls opposite them looked appalled.

“ _How_?” Parvati pleaded, making her sister chuckle. Rhian let out a long exhale through her nose and smiled.

“If you get past the _way_ he says it, it’s really fascinating stuff, especially when you learn about Muggle history alongside it,” Rhian explained, watching her friend shake her head adamantly.

“Well, you’ll get your chance to quiz Binns once again on Muggle relations legislation in a few days’ time.” When the twins looked at Rhian at the same time in surprise, Freya’s eyes widened as if she had let slip a secret and opened her mouth to apologise.

“Ah, yeah. I’m going to be working at Hogwarts this year.” Even as Rhian said it, she still felt as though it wasn’t really going to happen. Back in June, Albus Dumbledore himself had approached her about taking up a temporary position. She’d technically have two employers, with the Ministry checking in for updates around wizarding examinations, and the staff of Hogwarts letting her observe and assist in lessons.

“As a _Professor_?” Padma asked, completely awed. Rhian let out a curt laugh as if the idea itself was a complete joke.

“No, no. Definitely not. It’s like an assistant role, I’ll probably be in some of your lessons though,” she explained, and the girls exchanged pleased looks, glad that they now had some kind of connection to Rhian that they could share with their friends.

“Padma, that still leaves a mystery about who’s going to be Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher...”. Then, the twins told Rhian and Freya all about the drama of their third year. It was quite captivating to hear the tale of murderous Sirius Black’s entrance into Hogwarts and the revelation that their DADA teacher had been a werewolf. So captivating, in fact, that the time had flown by. They called over their mother to cast a spell to wash away the dye, and the older witch muttered an incantation that made the mehndi start to dance on Rhian and Freya’s palms. She told them it would probably last for a week, before disappearing back to her table.

“Thank you so much, Padma, it’s beautiful.” Rhian was grinning, examining her palms with wonder. The marquee grew quiet, and they all realised they needed to retreat back to their seats for the speeches. “See you both later.” The twins smiled and turned away; their heads close together as they exchanged their thoughts at the latest staffing development. Rhian suddenly felt as though her return to the wizarding school was a _tiny_ bit more real, now.

***

After listening to speeches from Yasmin’s father, Reyad’s best man and Reyad himself, Rhian decided that she was going to be making a speech at her own wedding. There had been too many men’s voices. The tables were pushed to the far corners of the marquee with a few swishes of wands, and the attendees were back on their feet. Goblets had been refilled with wine and people were drinking merrily, eagerly awaiting the couple’s first dance. The sun was setting, although the amber glow from a summer evening still burned strong, casting a warmth that was now comforting rather than stifling.

The crowd gathered around a large open space in the middle of the marquee as a small wedding band assembled on a platform nearby, their sheet music hovering as they set up their instruments. There were a pair of singers too. Rhian recognised one as Yasmin’s younger sister and gave her a wave. The male singer beside her might be the boyfriend she had been hearing about recently. It was so sweet that they were going to sing. The thought of either of her brothers singing at her wedding mortified Rhian, although wouldn’t put it past Lloyd.

As Rhian sipped her wine, Alfie scooted up beside her. The six friends had all been incredibly close at school - but Rhian had a very special place in her heart for Alife. Her very first magical friend, a fellow Hufflepuff. The two had gravitated towards each other instantly, reinforced by sharing the same bullies. She slipped an arm around his waist and smiled widely.

“You alright?” she asked, resting her head against his burgundy suit-covered shoulder.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Looking forward to a dance.” She gave him a squeeze which he gladly returned. “Will you do me the honour? Seeing as Freya and Jack will be too preoccupied...” he suggested with a grin, lowering his voice so that the others didn’t hear him. Rhian pulled away, but only so she could look at him better as she smiled a scandalous smile.

“You noticed as well then?” Alfie merely nodded at this, but seemed to be holding onto something else, revealed with a chuckle. He was peering across the dance floor at Bill, and Rhian followed his gaze. Bill had been watching the pair, quickly speaking to the wizard beside him when he noticed she was staring back. Alfie met her stern gaze and snorted. “What?” she demanded.

“I’ve _also_ noticed that Bill hasn’t taken his eyes off of you today,” Alfie mused, as Rhian tried to suppress what would appear to be a pleased smile.

“Yeah, well, if I’m being honest, I think the feeling is _mutual_ _today_ ,” Rhian admitted quietly, and Alfie let out a gasp.

“I thought I could sense the tension. You sure that’s not dangerous territory?” She had to stop to think about his question carefully. Was this dangerous territory? A little flirt and a reminisce never hurt anybody. Did it? No, she was certain that even if this was some intense sexual chemistry being reignited, her and Bill were mature enough to navigate it. Before she could muster a verbal answer, the band had started playing. Instruments were being used that she hadn’t seen before, which gave the music a rather ethereal sound. As Yasmin’s little sister began to sing, the newly-wed couple made their way onto the dance floor. The words were in Hindi, but she could tell they were laden with love.

For the third time that day, Rhian’s glazed over with tears and her nose stung with oncoming tears as Yas and Reyad waltzed, holding each other closely. She looked up at Alfie, who was wiping away a stray tear from his cheek. “We’re such saps,” he croaked quietly.

“Doubt that’s ever going to change,” Rhian croaked back, the two sniffling as Yasmin smiled in their direction. They had to compose themselves quickly as the attendees started to join the couple in their dance. Once Yasmin’s family had paired off, Alfie put out his sleeved arm with a smile. Rhian took it with a matching smile and before long, they had found their feet - sort of. They were uncoordinated at best and were giggling at how often they stood on each other’s toes. Freya and Jack danced past them, completely oblivious to everyone else.

Towards the edge of the dance floor, Rhian felt a tap on her shoulder. She didn’t have to guess who it was from the way Alfie grinned. She turned around and Bill was standing in front of her, the height difference between them had been closed a couple of inches today with her heels - but for the first time that day, she had noticed it again. Their height difference had always led to some funny moments, and some moments that she was sure would make her blush if she thought too hard about them again.

“How can I help you?” she asked coolly.

“I was just wondering if Alfie wanted a dance,” Bill mused, looking past her mockingly as Alfie let out a hoot of laughter. Rhian rolled her eyes; this was classic Bill. “You think I’m not being serious?” the Weasley continued, raising a brow.

“Well, _I_ don’t doubt you for a second William, but I think Rhi’s looking for a new partner that won’t break her toes,” the Hufflepuff wizard hummed, moving away from the pair with a noticeable smirk. “You can take me for a spin later though, if you’d like,” he gave Bill a wink that made all three of them laugh, before disappearing towards the tables again, presumably to set up base for the next couple of hours.

Rhian and Bill were left standing on the edge of the dance floor, and he wasted no time in taking her hand in his and her waist in the other, leading her back out into the remaining pairs – the numbers had dwindled.

“I had to grab you before they start playing something more upbeat,” Bill said quietly.

“And why’s that?” she asked, although she could’ve guessed his answer from the way he held her closer at her words. This tenderness, once again, caught her off guard. It harkened back to a simpler time between them, and she felt a pull towards Bill that hadn’t been there for the best part of five years.

“Pige, do you remember that night your parents were away, and we got their record player out? Your dad had a Muggle record, by that guy-”

“Frank Sinatra,” Rhian aided quietly, she knew the exact night he was referring to, it was very hard to forget - vaguely, she noticed this wasn’t a direct answer to her question, but she found herself resting her head against his shoulder as they swayed, breathing in his cologne.

“He was singing a song about falling in love with a witch, of all things, and we danced together around the living room table,” he recalled fondly, and after a moment’s silence had to stifle a chuckle. “Then we fell over that table, broke it, and you cried about what your Mum would say?” Rhian let out a breathy laugh against his hunter green suit jacket. “You’d forgotten we could do magic outside of school, you muppet,” he teased, and she pulled back to look up at him with a brow raised, letting out a huff of acceptance at her silliness as she looped her hands around his neck.

“Who are _you_ calling a muppet? _I_ was the one who knew the spell to fix it in the end, after _a lot_ of experimentation” she smirked, and he rolled his eyes. Both of his hands had moved slowly to her waist, the pair still swaying.

“If I’m remembering correctly, and I’m pretty sure I am, what happened in your _bedroom_ that evening involved lots of _experimentation_ too.”


	2. Prologue II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read my first chapter, it's much appreciated! TW for mentions of manipulation and emotional abuse (?), just to be safe. You'll probably be able to guess what's next from the end of this chapter, and I can't tell you how excited I am to write it :insert angel emoji here:

PROLOGUE II

It was evident that whatever sexual tension was left between Rhian and Bill was bubbling to the surface. Rhian wondered if both of them being single at a wedding had something to do with it - the romantic setting stirring up some serious what-ifs. Still, she had been floored by his forwardness and surprised that she was so quick to be sucked in with the excitement of it all. After leaning up to whisper in his ear that she had _never_ forgotten what they had gotten up to that night, the slow dance had finally ended with Rhian’s cheeks flushed and the tips of Bill’s ears reddened. She was pulled away by Freya as the band and singers started to perform something far livelier; as she started to dance with her friend, she looked over her shoulder and basked in the fact that he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her.

The rest of the evening passed as she expected - plenty of dancing, and after 9PM, she noticed her goblet had been refilling with something definitely alcoholic, some kind of fragrant punch. Rhian was careful not to drink too much, knowing that Hogwarts students were there and in a matter of days, she’d been seen as a responsible figure. It wouldn’t bode well for the Patil twins to see her absolutely _smashed_. The guests were slowly dwindling as the night passed, and when it got to 11, Rhian gathered her five friends.

“Do you all fancy coming back to mine for a bit? If you’re all okay to apparate,” she asked, eyeing up a swaying Jack who had definitely been taking advantage of the bottomless drinks.

“Sounds good, Pige,” Bill grinned. She gave him the side-eye as if to imply that she expected him to say that. “You can apparate with me, I’ve not had that much. One of you two will have to take Jack, I don’t think Rhi wants someone splinched in her kitchen.”

“I’ll-” Alfie started, but was swiftly interrupted.

“That’s fine, he can apparate with me,” Freya confirmed, wrapping her arm around the swaying Irishman as he shrugged and patted her head. Bill, Rhian and Alfie all shared the _look_ once more.

“What?” Freya snapped, noticing for the first time that evening that the others were poking fun. Before any of them could answer, Yasmin entered the circle, clinging to Rhian’s side with a wide smile. She looked positively elated but completely exhausted, rubbing under her eyes with her free hand.

“Are you all off home, then?” she asked, taking a quick glance around the emptying marquee. “I knew you’d all be the last ones standing,” she smiled fondly.

“We are!” Rhian chimed, turning to face her to give her a tight hug, kissing her cheek with a loud affectionate ‘mwah’. “This has been such a lovely day. Start to finish.” She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or just her usual rush of emotions, but her eyes hazed over with tears and as they pulled back from each other and she noticed Yasmin shared the same glaze. “You’re going to have a fantastic time on that honeymoon, enjoy it,” Rhian grinned.

Jack started to crack up and Bill had to look away to not laugh. The three girls and Alfie rolled their eyes collectively at the immaturity. Yas hugged each of them in turn before walking them to the marquee entrance. In the corner of her eye, Rhian caught Alfie saying goodbye to Ayush Chatterjee - the wizard who had sat beside her for dinner. She could have sworn she saw him _wink_ at Alfie...an interesting development. Yas caught Rhian’s hand just as they were filing out.

“Good luck at Hogwarts, Rhi. You have to write and let me know how you settle in,” she said supportively. Rhian squeezed her hand for the second time that evening and nodded.

“I will! It’s going to be so weird; I won’t be able to keep it to myself.” They both laughed as Rhian let go of her hand and stumbled away across the uneven grassy ground. Just before she took Bill’s outstretched arm, she turned around and waved one last time. Then, she was transported into a swirling darkness, and somehow, mid-apparition, Bill had managed to rest his hand against the small of her back.

***

The five of them appeared with a unanimous, resounding _crack_ into a smoky side alley. It was loud enough for some of the passer-by’s on the main street to peer in to see if everything was okay. All they’d see was five people crowded around a front door as Rhian fumbled to find her wand amongst one of the layers of the dress - thankfully, any kind of wizarding dress usually had a (wand) pocket, regardless of the gender it was designed for. She couldn’t say the same for Muggle clothing, especially women’s Muggle clothing.

“Fu-ckin’ hurry up Rhi! I need a drink,” Jack pestered, leaning against the door frame moodily. The group laughed, knowing that was the last thing Jack needed.

“Chill out Abbott, I’ve just found it!” Rhian produced her wand and tapped it against the door thrice. She found it easier to enchant the door than to carry around a key. They huddled inside and had to climb the rather steep staircase to get to her flat.

“Bloody hell,” Alfie puffed as he reached the top. “You better have some snacks behind that door my love, because these stairs have done me in.” She grinned as she tapped thrice on the second door, and the five of them spilled into a cosy living room. She waved her wand and the lights came on. Her record player also switched on, starting up her ABBA Gold record. As soon as Take A Chance On Me started playing, Jack had thrown his hands in the air and started dancing.

“MUGGLE MUSIC!” He yelled, and Bill threw a cushion from the sofa at his face. Jack being a bit of a drunk was one of the only stereotypes that seemed to befit this group of magical folk - but it wasn’t because he drank in excess, it was because he was a total lightweight, even more so than Rhian herself.

“Florean will kill me if we wake him up,” she pleaded, running over to the record player, and turning down the volume so that it just became pleasant background noise, rather than her trying to emulate a concert in her living room.

“Sorry about Jack,” Freya apologised, pushing the giggling Irishman on the sofa; she could not keep a straight face for long though, and quickly joined him as he picked up one of the Muggle history books on the coffee table to peruse.

“This Henry VIII fella sounds dodgy,” Jack murmured, raising a brow as he flipped through the pages. “Six wives? Actually, come to think of it, that doesn’t sound that bad...” he trailed off, searching for Freya’s reaction. She rolled her eyes dramatically, then leaned back into the sofa with a loud huff.

“Shall we tell them, Jack?” It was a question, but it sounded like more of a demand. He put the book down, perplexed.

“Tell them what?” He drawled, but then caught her scandalised expression and his eyes widened. He let out a long ‘oooh’, turned to face the three others, who had migrated towards the kitchen counters. Rhian had been rooting around in one of the lower cupboards for the bottle of Ogdens Old Firewhisky she knew existed there somewhere - a Valentine’s Day gift from her ex that she hadn’t quite had the stomach to drink. He always had liked getting drunk with her, or rather, getting _her_ drunk. As she bent over she could practically feel Bill’s gaze, and she was pleased she had it. Edward wasn’t around anymore to make her feel guilty about enjoying attention on the rare occasions she received some. “Oi, you three. Freya and I have an announcement-”

“I have absolutely no idea what this could be.” Alfie turned to face the seated couple with a few glasses in hand, shrugging his shoulders pointedly and feigning confusion. Rhian emerged with her hand wrapped around the bottle, setting it on the counter and trying to suppress a telling smile.

“Me either, whatever you’re about to say is going to be the biggest surprise,” Bill chipped in, and Rhian watched as he leaned against the counter languidly, folding his arms. He had always been too good looking for his own good, she thought. He had been the school heart-throb in his time, and she was still baffled that he had taken so much interest in her, especially her during the awkward teenager years.

“The suspense is _kill-in-g_ me,” Rhian added, pulling the cork from the bottle with a loud, pleasing pop. Freya’s mouth fell open and she elbowed Jack in the side.

“Did you tell them already?” She was furious, and he groaned and shook his head. His mouth was opening and shutting like a goldfish, clearly trying to work out if he had said anything - but then, Rhian snorted, which set Alfie and Bill off.

“Jack never said a word, it was pretty obvious my lovely,” Rhian laughed, motioning for Alfie to set down the five glasses. Freya rolled her head back in exasperation, and Jack’s face had resumed its merriment now that he was out of the clear. “How long have you been going out?” She poured the amber liquid into each glass, only pouring a half-measure for Jack.

“About three months, officially,” Freya explained, failing to suppress a warm smile in Jack’s direction, even though he had picked up the history book again and was making faces at the words inside. Rhian started to hand the glasses out, Bill’s fingers had rested against hers for longer than necessary when she passed him his.

“Merlin’s beard, that’s _so_ strange,” Alfie started, taking a sip and pressing the cool glass to his lips, a hand resting on his hip. “I had a premonition that you two would get together...the Two of Cups was drawn under the constellation of Gemini and the waxing moon.” He had put on Freya’s Bristolian accent , waving his hand mysteriously. Rhian started to cackle, unbeknownst to Alfie, this was exactly the kind of thing she had been holding off on in front of the Patil twins.

“Oh, shove off Alf,” Freya huffed, but not without an amused smile as she took a sip of her own glass of firewhiskey. The other three migrated from the kitchen and spread out, Freya and Jack were on the sofa - Bill had taken the armchair next to the record player, Alfie had taken the one opposite.

“I see how it is, after my generous hospitality...” Rhian rolled her eyes with a chuckle. Bill seemed to shuffle, almost as if to suggest there was somehow space for her to sit down with him. Unless she was sitting on his lap - the idea eliciting a twisting sensation in her stomach - it wouldn’t exactly work. She propped herself on the arm of Alfie’s armchair. He was having none of that, and promptly pulled her onto his lap, where Rhian laid across him horizontally, legs hanging over the other arm.

The conversation flowed, as it usually did between the friends, and Rhian’s cheeks had begun to hurt from all the smiling and laughing. They were on their third glass of whiskey, apart from Jack who had fallen asleep, and Rhian was _feeling_ it. Her and Alfie had changed positions so that he was the only sitting across her, as trying to keep her head upwards was proving nauseating.

“You know, I think this is the first time we’ve all been here at the same time,” Bill observed, letting his head sink back against the armchair. “What put you off having gatherings before, Pige?” The question was more nauseating than the whiskey. She visibly tensed, her face falling into a frown. She might have given a different answer if she hadn’t been loosened by alcohol, and if five months hadn’t have passed since the reason why she barely socialised for over a year had been removed.

“This is going to put a massive fucking downer on things,” she started, practically cradling Alfie in her lap to try and prepare herself, avoiding eye contact with anybody. “I _know_ you all didn’t like Ed and thought he was a prat and the truth is, you were _right_. But it wasn’t just the cheating...” She could feel it, it was all going to come out despite the mixture of anxiety and panic pressing against her chest. _They’re going to think I was so stupid, such an idiot for putting up with it._ Yet, Rhian was compelled to carry on. “He...he was really manipulative. Like, making me feel weird for seeing you all, telling me to stop spending time with my family. Sometimes he would say really backhanded shit about how I looked and my weight, or guilt me into having sex-”

She was cut off by Bill making a kind of strangled noise. She focused on him briefly, and he looked enraged. Freya had been shooting him multiple warning looks to not say anything. Rhian hoped that anger was not directed at her, but the insecurity and vulnerability of the moment made her think it was possible. Alfie shifted out of her lap and onto the arm of the chair, a hand placed delicately on her shoulder. The truth was, he knew some of these details. He had come over the night they had broken up, and she had spilled some of these realities then. She inhaled deeply, her breath seemed to rattle in her lungs as she twisted her hands together. “His sister, who hates his guts more than she hated mine, said that the reason why he started going out with me is because their family are blood purists, and he wanted to get under their skin. He did always shit on my heritage, come to think of it,” she explained, her nose stinging with tears that she really, _really_ didn’t want to cry. She had shed far too many over Edward Selwyn. Instead, she laughed bitterly. “Apparently, the witch he cheated on me with called him out on his bullshit after a month and chucked him.” _Someone clearly braver than I_ , she thought. There was a brief silence where Alfie squeezed her shoulder and Bill drank deeply from his glass.

“I’m so sorry, Rhi. I didn’t think...I didn’t know,” Freya’s voice was shaken, and she stopped when Rhian shook her head viciously.

“ _Please_...don’t you apologise. There’s only _one_ person I need an apology from, but that’s not going to happen,” she replied, wiping away a couple of pearly escapees from her cheeks. “I wish I hadn’t let him treat me like that for so bloody long.” She let out a long, shaky sigh and brought her glass to her lips.

“It’s not your fault,” Bill cut across the room. _It feels like my fault._ She didn’t look at him, she had felt her share of shame about her situation. Alfie stood up and offered Rhian his hand.

“Come out for a ciggy, my love, get some fresh air.” After a moment to consider the offer, she took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. She felt a lot more intoxicated standing, which wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling to have after her declaration. She let out a light laugh.

“Bit of a contradiction there,” she muttered, letting him lead her back down the stairs. She tapped the front door with her wand, and they stood in the doorway, the cool summer night air relieving the pressure of what had just happened. He lit a cigarette, taking a drag and blowing the smoke into the alley and then tried passing it to her. “I’m alright,” she assured. He nodded and tapped off the excess before taking another drag.

“I think it’s good that you talked about it,” Alfie suggested, leaning against the door frame. She didn’t admit that she wasn’t so sure and settled on a shrug. “Hearing it again does make me want to kill the bastard though,” he admitted with a scowl.

“I just feel like I’ve ruined a good day.” She raked a hand through her hair, staring at the billowing smoke dissipating. He shook his head vehemently, stubbing out his cigarette on the brick wall to the side of the door.

“You haven’t, honestly,” he attempted to convince her. “ _Nothing_ is going to ruin this day”. She observed him for a moment and then smiled, finding an excuse to change the topic.

“I might be wrong, but were you _talking_ to Yasmin’s cousin at the wedding,” she wondered, watching his lips curl into a light smirk.

“As a matter of fact, I was,” he confirmed, sliding his hands into his trouser pocket and producing a small piece of parchment, flashing an address in Leeds. “It’s the address to his Quidditch supply shop and to told me to drop by _anytime_.” Rhian raised a brow and Alfie’s smirk grew.

“I don’t think you’ll be riding a _broom_ when you drop by,” she proposed, and he let out a screech of laughter that managed to completely erase her miserable mood.

***

When the pair returned upstairs, it was clear that some kind of conversation had taken place between Bill and Freya wherein they agreed to not ask any further questions about the Edward situation. They didn’t act as though nothing had happened, which would have made Rhian feel uncomfortable, but they were resolutely quiet about the issue and instead asked if they could put on a Queen record. Cheerfully, she obliged and before long, the four of them were recreating Bohemian Rhapsody. Jack was still passed out on the sofa, completely oblivious to their craziness. How Bill, Freya and Alfie had all remembered the words was beyond Rhian. They weren’t able to go quite as crazy as they would have liked after the operatic interlude, but they all agreed it was still one of their finest performances.

As 2AM rolled around and the bottle of whiskey had been finished, the executive decision was made by Alfie that they ought to get going. Rhian offered to let them stay and that she’d try and transfigure a couple of beds out of the arm chairs; he insisted that one of the barmen at the Leaky Cauldron owed him a favour, and he could get them rooms for the night - even at this ungodly hour. Rhian gave Alfie a tight squeeze, and then Freya and a sleepy but slightly sobered Jack. They trudged out of the door, and she could hear Jack skip the last couple of steps with a grunt. Bill was hanging back; stood by the armchair he had been sitting in.

“I’ll catch up with you all in a few,” Bill called after the three others. Alfie poked his head back around the door the flat and rolled his eyes.

“I’m _sure_ you will.” Alfie flashed her a knowing smile before waving his hand and closing the door behind him leaving the pair in the now quiet room. She hesitated by the closed door briefly as the twisting in her stomach returned. Without words, she headed towards the sofa and he followed, the two sitting down in unison.

“Are you okay?” Rhian asked, prompting him to exhale through his nose sharply.

“I ought to be asking you that question,” he answered. He pursed his lips together in thought, leaning forward and looking sideways at her. “Did you want to talk about-”

“No, Ed has taken far too much of my time already,” she interrupted promptly, but not without an understanding smile. “And if I’m being honest, if we’re going to be alone, the last thing I want to do is talk exes.” She could see the cogs turning in his mind, and then he let out a laugh.

“But, we _are_ talking exes...” he grinned, relaxing back into the sofa, and extending an arm across the top. She took that as an invitation, swiftly moving to sit directly beside him - thigh touching thigh - resting her head on his shoulder. He titled his head, so it rested against hers, his arm dropping so that it wrapped around her instead, his fingers ghosting the silk-covered skin of her hips. They sat quietly for the best part of a minute, before Rhian shifted to look up at him, their faces quite close; near enough to feel his breath.

“Do _you_ want to stay the night?” The question probably didn’t need to be asked, but the warm sensation she felt at asking it was worth it.

“Are you sure?” Another questioned that seemed unnecessary but the consideration in his tone was welcomed. Bill was inching closer as Rhian nodded. Then, their lips crashed together with all the unbridled passion that befitted two firewhiskey laden souls.


	3. Prologue III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back with another chapter! Thanks to everyone who had read/left kudos/followed/shown a general interest :) 
> 
> Warning, this chapter is literally just smut with a nice bit of dialogue on the end. Please be gentle with me, this is the first time I've published smut and I decided to test it out by writing my OC with Bill before we get near the Snape saga. 
> 
> Also, changing the rating to explicit because this is definitely not 16+...I need to safeguard this fic aha.
> 
> After this chapter, we're travelling to Hogwarts my lovelies - hope ya'll are ready!
> 
> SIDE NOTE: Think it's important to mention. I use the words "unwritten permission" here - I don't want Bill to look like he's not a consent King, because he is! He just knows what Rhian's into!

PROLOGUE III

Rhian found herself lying beneath Bill, legs wrapped loosely around him as his body pushed her into the satin sofa; his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin of her neck. She positively _writhed_ beneath him, surprised at just how desperate she felt for his touch. Seemingly, she was writhing too much - his hands travelled from her hips and slid up the length of her body, then up her arms until his fingers laced around her wrists, pinning them above her head as he sucked her skin between his teeth, drawing out a breathy moan. She could feel him smile. Her mind felt hazy, a mixture of whiskey and arousal. 

Bill stopped attacking her neck, leaning back to look down at her with what she could only describe as a hunger. She wet her plump lips, watching his eyes flicker to them and then back up to meet hers. The top two buttons of his shirt had come free, his tie hanging loosely around his neck; the dress robe had long been discarded, leaving his not-so-crisp suit underneath. His man-bun was coming apart, loose strands of his red hair shaping his face.

“You’re a mess already,” she teased, eliciting an airy laugh from him. She reached between his legs with a smirk, palming at the bulge she found there. He soon stopped laughing, his breath hitching in his throat as he pressed himself against her hand. 

“As much as I love this dress,” he started, eyes soaking in her silk-covered curves, “I think it’s time it came off, don’t you think?” He stood up, begrudgingly so as it meant she was no longer squeezing his erection through his trousers. She pulled herself to her feet, then grabbed his hand to lead him into her bedroom. She waved a hand as they tumbled inside, candles dotted around the room lighting themselves, emitting an enticing glow. “Wandless magic?” He murmured, clearly impressed as he closed the door behind them. Both of them had a little sway in their step.

“I learned how to do it from Inoyni, that witch I travelled with in South Africa,” she hummed, trying to reach around for the zip of her dress. He crept up behind her, shooing her hands away from their attempt. She could hear the zipper being lowered and felt her body breathe, the zip stopping at the small of her back. He pulled the dress from her shoulders, ghosting his lips over the skin there as she pulled her arms free of the sleeves, making her shiver. She stepped out of the dress which had pooled around her feet, left in a white lace bra and matching Brazilian lace knickers. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closes, hands splayed across her midriff. There was something so _satisfying_ about feeling her bare skin against his clothed body.

“I have admit, when you wrote to me all that time ago and told me you were _seeing_ a woman, it fuelled quite a few thoughts that involved-” Rhian turned around to cut him off, still wrapped in his arms but pressed to his front. She laughed and rolled her eyes.

“ _You’re_ not her type. _I_ was her type.” She reached up to take his tie off fully, undoing the knot and pulling it from him, hearing it fall to the floor with a tap. His hands moved down to cup her ass cheeks instead, giving them a delightful squeeze as he continued to hold her close.

“Who can blame her?” Bill smirked, their lips meeting haphazardly, teeth clicking as they both realised that they could be doing something more pleasant than merely talking. He turned her around, backing her up to the wall. She broke their kiss to let out a whimpering giggle as the cold wall made contact with the bare skin of her back. He laughed through his nose but wasted no time pressing his lips to hers again, parting them with his ravenous tongue. Their tongues rolled over one another, and she reached up to his bun and pulled it free from the hair tie. She raked her hands through his loose hair, and for the first time, he let out a groan of his own. 

In retaliation, he shoved a hand between her legs, sliding between where her thighs met to part them. He massaged her through the damp fabric, two of his fingers expertly finding her covered clit. He knew he had found it, of course, when her thighs squeezed together with a moan. He pulled away from their kiss, a stand of salvia breaking between their lips. “I forgot how wet you get,” he breathed against her flushed cheeks, moving the fabric aside so that he was free to dip his fingers between her folds. The middle one found her entrance and slipped inside. Rhian let out a shaky breath from the intrusion that morphed into a moan as he started to pump it in and out of her, adding a second finger after a few seconds. Her hands, which had been draped around him, tugged his shirt collar so that he’d stop watching himself finger her - he’d always enjoyed seeing his own handy work - and kiss her instead. He obliged, and as he quickened the pace, she caught his bottom lip between her teeth with an audible whine. 

After a moment, she grabbed his hand and he stopped, leaning back to look at her face with concern. “What’s up?” He withdrew his fingers and she smiled.

“Nothing’s wrong, I just want do something for you.” His features relaxed, replaced with a sinful smile that graced his slightly reddened lips. 

“Show me what you want to do.” He was playing with fire tonight, saying something like that. She pulled his hand up to her face, slipping his fingers between her lips, sucking them clean of her wetness without breaking eye contact. “ _Merlin_ Rhi,” he breathed as they popped free of her mouth. 

“Sit down on the bed,” she demanded, and he complied at once, choosing to sit on the edge rather than against the headboard; he had always enjoyed seeing her on her knees. Bill quickly unbuckled his belt, yanking it free from the trouser loops. He his trousers off in flash, taking his socks off with them too. He pulled down his boxer briefs, revealing an erection that slapped back against his stomach when he freed it from its constraints. He leaned back on his hands, displaying himself with a smirk. He had always been proud of his size, all eight inches of it. Rhian reached around to unclasp her bra, letting it fall free and watching as he soaked in the sight of her bare breasts, which were just as round and inviting as the rest of her.

She dropped to her knees between his parted legs harder than she would have done sober, but the impact was numbed thanks to her friend Ogden. Without hesitation, she dragged her tongue from base to tip, a hand moving to pull back his foreskin before she wrapped her lips around his cock head. Bill groaned, bucking his hips wantonly but keeping his hands to himself - for now. Her mouth sunk around his length, lowering with every bob of her head until it met a little resistance. She pushed past that barrier, gagging as she accommodated for his length, her eyes watering as she looked up at him. His lips were parted, eyes locked onto her as if he wanted to burn the image of his cock in her throat into his mind. Rhian held her head there for a few seconds before pulling back partially with a wet moan. 

“You’re so fucking good at this,” he breathed, watching as she sunk down again to this new depth. Rhian slipped her hand between her legs and under her knickers ungracefully to start playing with herself; she found a lot of pleasure in pleasuring someone else. He responded by wrapping his hands in her long hair, balling it up in his grip before setting his own pace, bobbing her head. With an unwritten permission, he suddenly forced her head down, her throat wrapped tightly around his cock. “ _Oh_ shit, _oh fuck_ \- stay still babe,” he groaned as he thrust his hips while holding her head in place, eyes lidded as he watched her gag. She stayed still for as long as she could before she patted his leg with her free hand, her other hand was preoccupied. He loosened his grip at once and she released his length with a wet gasp, having to wipe the mess around her mouth. His eyes flitted down to her working fingers and he grinned. “ _Oi_ , that’s my job,” he teased as he stood up, pulling her to her feet. 

After that prompt, Rhian didn’t have to think twice about what she wanted to do next. She took his place, kneeling on the bed, ass jutting out and hands propping her up, already clinging to the duvet. She looked over her shoulder at him dangerously, arching her back. Bill had his hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a few strokes in an exhibitionistic manner. He gave her ass an experimental slap, making her cry out with a noise that showed she had like that a little too much. She watched his lips curl into a smirk as he ran his large hands over her, travelling back up to waist and back down to her hips, fingers hooking underneath her underwear to peel them off. She lifted her knees to help him, and now he was the one to drop to his knees with a thud. He lacked the same hesitancy as she did when he placed opened mouthed kisses on each of her cheeks, then on the inside of her thighs, before his tongue parted her lips, lapping as though he were thirsty. 

“ _Oh_ god _, please_ keep doing that” she moaned, and he complied. She pressed back against his face and equally, his arms wrapped around her legs to hold her steady. The pitch of her moans shifted when his tongue started flick at her clit, the intensity of the feeling making her thighs tremble. Something like that couldn’t make her come, but it would make getting there _so_ much more powerful. He pulled his head back with his own wet gasp, which almost made her laugh. Any giggling would have been swiftly stubbed as he slipped two fingers inside her, pumping them quickly as his tongue found her clit again, this time wrapping his lips around the sensitive area and giving it a suck. Rhian practically _mewled_ , back arching and hands switching from being splayed to being clenched in front of her - if he kept that up, she might...it was gone, and she found herself panting lightly, back straightening. “ _F-uck_ , you almost made me come,” she said with a shiver.

“ _I know_ , that’s why I stopped.” She threw him a scandalised look over her shoulder. “I hate to be selfish,” he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to the edge of the bed, lining his cock up with her entrance. He leaned down to place soft kisses across her back, rolling his hips so that he pressed against her tantalisingly, drawing out her moans. “But I want to feel you come _around_ me.” The tip of his cock pushed inside, making sure she was absolutely ready before snapping his hips forward to bury himself fully inside her. As he found his pace, Rhian’s moans were strangled, her breath taken away by just how _hard_ he was fucking her. His noises were music to her ears, animalistic groans that made her arch her back and made her walls squeeze around him. “Shit, Rhi, you feel so fucking good,” he said breathily. Then, he had found the spot, the pressure against it making her let out a cry.

“Fuck, _yes_! Oh my g-od, _Bill_ , please, _please_ ,” she hadn’t specified what she was asking for, but he seemed to know. His fingers fumbled to find her sensitive clit, rubbing against as he pounded into her, his other hand squeezing her ass and encouraging her to meet his thrusts. She came hard, making a sound close to a squeal, dissolving into waves of intense pleasure. Unable to keep herself propped up, her arms relaxed, making her sink slightly. That didn’t stop Bill. Both his hands clung to her waist, holding her like a ragdoll as he continued to fuck her, his thrusts starting to become uneven. Her thighs trembled as he let out a strained groan, pulling out of her. She felt his cum draped across her ass and lower back, hearing him pant as he finished. 

“Babe, that felt amazing.” She could hear him staggering, finding something to wipe up the mess he had made. “I’m so light-headed though,” his laugh was breathy, and it made her let out a weak giggle.

“Same...uh...there’s an old towel in the basket, use that,” Rhian murmured, gesturing in the right direction. She propped herself back up in time in time for him to start wiping her clean. When he finished, she flopped down in the bed on her back, looking up at him with a smile. “Thank you.” She shuffled to one side, letting him lie next to her, both above the duvet which had a wet patch where there escapades had taken place.

“For cleaning you up or for the fuck?” he asked, eyebrow raised. She batted his arm but shifted closer to him, letting him wrap the same arm around her.

“Both,” she sighed as she rested her head on his bare chest, both of their breathing still quick from the physical exertion. They lay in silence for a couple of minutes, Rhian’s head moving up and down with his breaths and her leg hooked over him. They were comfortable in each other’s presence, but for her, he had always brought an extra layer of comfort during their teenage years. For all the laid-back attitude, the cool vibe he gave off, Bill was ultimately a protector. Even as they had grown apart, he remained someone she could laid down her guard with and rely on to have her well-being in mind. The same couldn’t be said for others who had come in and out of her life. “Have you sobered up a bit?” She lifted her head off his chest to look at him directly.

“I think so...” he started, raking a hand through his slightly sweaty hair. “What’s up?” Clearly believing that he had sobered up, she retreated to sit against the headboard, and he sat up against it too, sensing she had something to say.

“Wanted to check to see if we were on the same page, about this,” she waved a hand to gesture at the pair of them, naked, and let out a laugh that he echoed. 

“Want to know my page first?” When she nodded, he let his head fall back onto the headboard with a sigh, looking at her sideways as she started to look down into her lap. “Pige, I think I’m always going to love you, _a bit_ ”, he paused, smiling when he saw her roll her eyes; it was a sign she agreed. “Five years ago we split up because our lives were about to go in different directions and we had felt that separation coming before it even happened, so we nipped any ill-feeling in the bud. We’re still on different paths, but they’re going to meet every now and again for big birthdays, for weddings, for random lunches and coffee mornings. If they end up with us in bed...I don’t think that’s a bad thing, but I don’t see us-”

“Being in a _relationship_ again?” She interjected, looking up from her lap. He nodded, and she let out a long, relieved sigh that made him laugh, “Yeah, we’re on the same page.” One of her hands found his, their fingers lacing together. “You’re right, though. I think I’ll always love you, _a little bit_ ,” she teased. She slid out of the bed, knowing she would feel gross if she didn’t use the loo and brush her teeth before bed, however much she wanted to dive under the duvet with Bill and cuddle up for the night. “Come on, I’ve got a spare toothbrush you can use, goblin-breath.” 

“Oi!” he jeered, climbing out of the bed too and following her into the small en-suite bathroom, giving her ass a squeeze when they both stopped at the sink. She batted him away impatiently. 

“Stop, I want to get back into bed ASAP,” she scolded, handing him a toothbrush as she put a dollop of toothpaste on her own and turned the tap on. 

“It’s not my fault it’s irresistible.” She rolled her eyes again as she brushed and after a moment, the pair were brushing simultaneously in front of the mirror. It was so reminiscent of old times - spending holidays at each other’s houses, camping, a little trip to France with the gang after their final Year. When they finished, they stood at studied their reflections for a second, Bill’s face splitting into a smile.

“Could you imagine if my Mum found out about this?” he suggested with a raised brow, and Rhian clapped her a hand over her mouth with a snort of laughter.

“Oh god, she’d be _so_ happy. I forgot to tell you at dinner earlier, I ran into Percy at the Ministry the other week and he said she mentions me about once every other month.” She recounted the breakfast she had shared with Cornelius Fudge’s latest Weasley employee. She had always gotten on well with Percy - both academically driven and keen to pursue some kind of career in service, although, she could see why he could agitate his brothers and sister. 

“To be fair, she’s not the only one who would want you around again,” he contemplated. “Ginny loved having another girl around - and George still has a thing for you.” 

“Come off it, he was just a kid with a crush,” she insisted, wetting a cloth to take off her make-up, which was practically non-existent after the long day they had shared.

“Well, Fred said you bumped into them all in Diagon Alley and apparently George-”

“ _Bill_ , you’re about to embarrass him and he’s not here to defend himself...besides, it’s probably best you keep it to yourself because I’ll be seeing him again soon.” As she wiped her face, his eyes lit up at her words.

“Oh, yeah! I still can’t believe you’re going back to work there,” he shook his head disbelievingly. She put the cloth down with an uncertain smile.

“I don’t think it’ll be real until I’m there, I’m _bricking_ it, to be honest” He wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, the pair still viewing their bare reflections. She let her head rest back against his bare chest, and he planted a kiss atop her head.

“You’ll be fab, Pige. You were made for teaching! _But_ , I bet you’ll feel so strange sat at the teacher’s table, with old McGonagall, and Sprout. Shit, you might even have to sit next to _Snape_.”


End file.
